


When I said I wanted to live in a fantasy world, I did not mean this.

by IMur223



Category: No Fandom, The Borrowers - All Media Types
Genre: Borrowers - Freeform, G/T, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Main Character, tinies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMur223/pseuds/IMur223
Summary: Basically just an AU-type story of me and my friend, Arson, with me as a human and them as a borrower. Featuring me freaking the fuck out, and Arson also freaking the fuck out.Don't expect regular updates. Or any updates. When will I stop the story? In 2 chapters? 10? Maybe even 15? I know as much as you, my motivation is a two faced bitch.
Kudos: 6





	When I said I wanted to live in a fantasy world, I did not mean this.

**Author's Note:**

> Meet the S M O L F R I E N D.

Isol couldn’t get back to sleep. They turned over under the covers, huffed in annoyance, and got out of bed. Isol grabbed a fluffy shirt and the pair of pants that went with it, and put them on, not bothering with a bra. They crouched down to the floor to grab their phone and headphones from the charger that laid on the bedsheets they had given up on keeping on the bed, and turned them both on. The headphones automatically connected to the phone, and they started listening to music. Isol went down the stairs quickly, music blaring in their ears and drowning out the sound of their feet thudding on each step, despite the fact that everyone else in the house was asleep and their mom would pester them to get back to sleep if she woke up. Isol went into the kitchen, flicking the lights on as they got in there, and trudged over to the bread. They opened the peanut butter, and then realized that they had not gotten a knife to spread it, which seemed to happen every time they went to get the bread. It was really almost comical at this point. Isol went over to the cup cabinet, snatching a glass to fill with water, because they knew they’d need it when they inevitably slathered an ungodly amount of peanut butter on their bread and clogged up their throat. 

That was when they saw something move from the corner of their eye. They flinched back a bit and turned to look at it. There was nothing there. They shrugged. Isol had a habit of getting startled after mistaking their shadow for a living thing. That was probably what had happened. They turned on the sink, switching it to cold water, and opened the silverware drawer to grab a butter knife while the water got cold. Isol touched the water after they had gotten the knife out, and then put the cup under the water. It filled up about three-quarters before they took it out and turned off the water. They had just set the cup down and turned to close the silverware drawer when their eyes passed by the kettle. Isol shut the drawer, and then froze. They turned back to look at the reflection they had seen in the kettle, and their mind just stopped working for a moment. No matter how blurry the reflection in the dull metal was, there was no mistaking the small, humanoid being that was crouching behind the unopened bottles of wine. They were small enough to be held in Isol’s hand, though they were just big enough that half of their legs would spill over the side. 

Isol couldn’t see many details of them from where they were, so they turned and peered around the wine bottles. The tiny person stayed frozen, shaking a bit. They wore a strange yellow, long-sleeved shirt that looked as if it was felted, which must have taken a lot of effort for someone their size, considering that it was unlikely that anyone made felting needles for people that small. The same was true for their pants, and the little shoes they wore. The only thought Isol could come up with that wasn’t panicking was that they probably didn’t have many other options for clothes, considering sewing needles were too big, someone might notice if there was a strange hole in their fabric, and doll clothes weren’t often made for dolls their size, and even if they were, they were most likely exaggeratedly thin or made for a doll with an unhealthily small waist. 

The tiny person seemed to have snapped out of it, and they scrambled to their feet and ran, jumping down the side of the table. Isol reached for them, afraid of what the fall would do to them, but they were too late. The tiny landed on the floor, barely making a sound before darting off to the fridge, scrambling under it and out of sight. Isol then remembered something from their science class- the tiny person probably didn’t have as much mass as a human, that would likely cause a lot of health issues, and besides, that would have led to them leaving a dent in the counter, since all that weight would be placed on one spot. The less mass a thing has, the less of an impact it has when falling. Or, that’s what she thought it was. It was like how squirrels can’t die from falling.

So the little person was okay. It was debatable if Isol was, though. They had just seen a tiny person, and it was obvious by the clothes they wore that they were an intelligent species. They were obviously terrified of Isol. Was this even real? Maybe it was some strange dream they were having, the kind that tricks you into thinking it’s real when you try to check. Isol pinched their arm, expecting to barely feel it, like the sort of false sense of touch they remembered from one of the lucid dreams that had fooled them. It hurt. Okay then, not dreaming. Were they hallucinating? They hadn’t ever had hallucinations before, wouldn’t they start small and then build up to the magnitude of something like this? Did they eat something weird? They sighed and went upstairs, sitting in their bed and plugging in their phone and headphones. They turned off the light in their room, laid down, and went to sleep after ten minutes of tossing and turning, forgetting the bread and the unopened peanut butter jar downstairs.


End file.
